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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28114263">Carols and decorations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar/pseuds/AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar'>AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Supernatural, actually [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas Fluff, Christmas Music, Dean is thinking about things, F/M, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sassy Crowley (Supernatural), everyone is a bit of a moron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:07:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28114263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar/pseuds/AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When he has to put on the last touches around the bunker, Dean finds himself thinking about several things and humming holiday songs. Castiel doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about it, and Dean’s singing talent is not the only reason.</p><p>Written for the spnchristmasbingo</p><p>Words:2246</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Crowley (Supernatural)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Supernatural, actually [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Carols and decorations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The atmosphere in the bunker is mostly happy and relaxed. The accident with the haunted Christmas tree has been quickly forgotten, and everything seems back to normal, as far as normal goes when a family of hunters is involved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While you and Jack are gone to pick up chestnuts, luckily bringing Crowley along with you, Sam, Dean and Eileen are in the kitchen. They’re currently working on thinning out the endless provisions of Christmas cookies bought by Jack and Castiel along with the ugly Christmas sweaters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Dean catches the stares between Sam and Eileen, and he notices how their hands keep touching under the small mountain of discarded wrapping, he knows that's his cue. He grabs a handful of candies and stands up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, guys, I'll go check if Cas needs help with putting up the rest of the decorations. You stay here, we'll call if we need help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The happy couple barely look at him while he leaves the kitchen, mindlessly popping another candy in his mouth. He heads for the library, finding Castiel sunk in his favourite armchair, reading “A Christmas Carol”. For a second, Dean stops chewing on whatever it is in his mouth, and looks at Cas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks deeply absorbed by the book, the inseparable trench coat gathered under his body, half covering him, half draping his figure. Dean feels a sudden lumps in his throat, and unconsciously wets his lips. He's done it a million times before, in every kind of situation, but the idea of calling Cas now... it bothers him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, he knew what would happen. Cas would lift his head, and he'd look at him. At the thought, Dean feels the knot in his throat getting tighter, and he's frustrated with himself. He's Cas. He's his best friend. He's the angel that's been in countless battles with him, whose eyes Dean can read as much as he can read Sam... and now he's being childish about looking at him. That won't do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Cas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exactly like he predicted, Castiel stops looking at the page and lifts his gaze, moving his attention on Dean. The moment their eyes meet, he automatically smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh... why are you reading?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't understand the nature of your question” Cas answers, tilting lightly his head on a side. Dean's stomach is surely making a number right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought... uh, Metatron didn't kind of... poured every bit of human culture in your head?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yes, he did, but you know I like doing things my way. Besides, Jack was asking me about Christmas stories earlier. There's a version of this book with puppets and another with... ducks, apparently?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiles at Castiel's confusion. “Yeah, the Disney one. It's pretty good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another childhood memory I can shatter?” Castiel asks, making Dean grin like a schoolgirl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you'll have to do better than that, this time. But if you were planning on zapping me to Disneyland, I might make up some shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never pegged you for a man who might want to go to Disneyland.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean just scrolls his shoulders. “Believe me, it's not the first surprise of these holidays. Anyway... I was about to put on some decorations. Wanna help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way Cas casually throws his legs off the armrest has Dean wondering about how long he needed to master his vessel to such a level of grace. He zones out for a moment, trying to think about the times he's seen him doing something graceless or even just slightly clumsy. He can't recall any, but when he comes back to reality, he finds Castiel intently observing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean? Are you ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forcing his brain to start working again, Dean swallows hard. “I... yeah. I'm great. This way, there's a lot of stuff to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We gotta... hang the lights, check the baubles in the tree, and... you know, stuff like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Any inspiration?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wide grin spreads on Dean's face while he answers “Yeah. I was thinking about something looking a bit like... you know, the huge one in New York, with the ice skating thing under it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don't you think it's a bit ambitious?” Castiel teases him, but he's actually slightly worried. Dean has been on a sort of Christmas high for days. He might actually try something extremely over the top.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I stopped the Apocalypse three times, and I killed Hitler. I can deal with a Christmas tree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. The same Christmas tree from which I had to save you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rolls his eyes, slightly exasperated. “Will I ever hear the end of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... would anyone in this bunker hear the end of it, if they brought along something haunted, and almost wreck the whole festivities?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... probably not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then probably not” Castiel states. Dean could swear that he's trying not to laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, sassy pants, you know what? I don't have to stand here and be treated like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You asked for my help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, to hang decorations, not to become the punchline of your jokes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm just doing what you usually do with me. Friendly banter, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Incredulous, Dean is now absolutely sure that Cas is making fun of him. He's also very surprised in finding out that he might actually find the whole thing quite pleasant. “You're getting too used to this humanity thing, you know? Get back to your book, I don't need no judgement while I hang my Christmas decorations.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your decorations? You mean those Jack and I bought?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After a couple of hours, Dean is humming Christmas songs again. He's surprised when Castiel starts humming in tune with him, and shoots him a weird look before laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on! I'm a great singer!” he declares, balancing some delicate glass ornament in his hand. Castiel just nods, unusually quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess that Emmanuel thing really stuck on you, uh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The... Dean, how did you find out about that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel stammers, looking at Dean like he just casually confessed some incredible truth. Dean has rarely seen the angel so surprised, especially when he's not even supposed to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You... you were called like that, when you were a healer, after Leviathans, weren't you? We came to find you, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... oh, that... that's correct. Yes, indeed, I was called Emmanuel. I... forgot about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Then why did you freak out that I knew?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I didn't remember that you knew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, you still are a shitty liar. What are you not telling me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel seems uncomfortable, but ultimately sighs and starts talking. “Well, that... that song you were singing... I might have been the one involved in his creation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... you... what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The person who wrote this... John Mason Neale. He was a pious boy, who was challenged to write a new hymn because he told the old ones in his community that he felt the old ones didn't make justice to the Lord.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean seems genuinely curious and moves a hand to encourage Castiel to go on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So... I showed up. To help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... wait, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was supposed to inspire him with holy visions, appropriate to his religion, of course, and... that song was the result.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean scoff, incredulous. “You are telling me that you inspired one of the most... I don't know, world-spread Christmas songs of all the frickin' times, and you never once thought to tell me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, I also discussed poetry with Christopher Marlowe and tried to convince him not to take that deal, but you never once asked me about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... Christopher Marlowe? The... the dude who died with a knife in his eye?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. How do you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dated a chick who was pretty into English literature and... and...”, Dean stammers, reading a certain annoyance in Castiel's eyes. Not the best move to talk about her, probably. “It was like... a lifetime ago. High school, go figures. It just stuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I guess so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So... is that why you picked the name Emmanuel after you came back from the Leviathans thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel tilts his head, almost surprised. He never made that connection. “I don't know, actually. It must have been set somewhere in my memory. I couldn't remember anything, but that name just felt... right. It must have been called in joy and devotion, to stick so deeply.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The notion that Castiel remembered the name some random guy gave him centuries ago, and not the one he used around him, makes Dean feel terrible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well... I hope next time you have an amnesia you can remember your name, after all that we've been through together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think I'm implying here, Dean?” Castiel's question is asked with an unusual kindness, almost with care. It catches Dean by surprise, and forces him to articulate his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't know. That you forgot your name because we never used it with enough... reverence, or devotion, or whatever else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I surely wasn't implying anything like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it sounded a lot like it, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel must make a real effort to stop himself from smiling. Of all the new things that are happening, seeing Dean uncomfortable around him might be the most surprising.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean... you're being needlessly defensive. I have no idea why that name stuck with me, but I was just referring to the fact that, for about three hundred years, that hymn that I inspired has been sung all around the world, to sing praise of my Father. Can you understand what I was trying to say, now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course Cas was talking about a bigger picture. Of course he made a fool of himself. “... I think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel puts a hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing lightly, prompting a curious stare. “Dean... I understand. I know what you've been through, and I know what you are trying to do. This new world, this new life... it's strange. Even for me. It's difficult to think that the absentee father I praised my whole existence is not what I thought I'd be...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fighting the lump forming in his throat, Dean scoffs, thinking about his own father. “Eh. You'll survive that one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... and it's almost impossible to understand that we truly and well overpowered God himself. If these events are almost out of my comprehension, I understand that they must be even more unsettling for you. But that's not all, isn't it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean lets out a strangled sound, followed by an incoherent mumble, from which Cas can only make out “change”, “family” and “safety”. He nods and goes on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adjusting to something new, learning new things about yourself... it can be hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly awkward, Dean snaps at him, but he doesn't pull back or shy away from the reassuring touch on his shoulder. The awkwardness has shifted to something else. Frustration. Confusion, and, most of all... impatience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, you plan on gettin' somewhere or just on my nerves? I'm not Jack. I don't need pep talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I'm just saying... don't be too hard on yourself. The whole world changed. If you changed along with it... it would be natural. Perhaps even better. I, personally, am very curious to see the new Dean Winchester.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... yeah, I don't know, man. I doubt it'll be a showstopper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Showstopper was the starting point, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just while Dean's cheeks turn to a bright red and his jaw drops a little, Castiel presses a light kiss on his unshaven cheek before drawing back just as quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, we have many things to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean is spared from finding some adequate response to Castiel's gesture by the door of the bunker opening. An instant later, an overly excited Jack rushes down the stairs, holding a basket and running to Dean and Castiel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoves the basket in Castiel's hands and proudly beams at him and Dean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chestnuts!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nods, looking down at the basket. “Yes, I see that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I picked them up! And I petted a hellhound! Two, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looks at him, surprised. “You did what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I picked up chestnuts! And we roasted them, too! Have you ever tried them? We could roast them. Maybe lighting a fire outside?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Jack, go back to the hellhound thing, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. Crowley brought his two along, and I played with them. Y/N did, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean groans, seeing you and Crowley walking back inside together. He snaps at him as soon as you two move closer, joining Jack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley! Hellhounds? Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Imperturbable as ever, Crowley speaks. “Pets are excellent to help children with their development, Squirrel. Everyone knows that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pets! Regular animals! Not... Cerberus!” It's clear that Dean's nerves come from something else, but you're all far too used to those little outbursts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You'll be happy to know that both Juliet and Banquo only have one head each. They're perfectly trained and capable of behaving properly. Perhaps I might interest you in some sessions, Squirrels? Your manners might improve...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean seems about to leash out, but instead he shoots you a deadly glare</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn kid, I hope you know what you're doing” is all that he mutters before turning tail and marching away, followed by Castiel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too surprised by that jab, you just head to the kitchen to get some water, hoping that Crowley didn't notice your surprise at Dean's words. On his part, Crowley chuckles and looks at you walking away. He then places a hand on Jack's shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on boy, let's see how we can poke some fun at your fathers. All in good spirit, naturally.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading my work! If you enjoyed it, I hope you'll leave a kudos or a comment! :) Feedback is always appreciated!</p><p>PLEASE, DO NOT REPOST MY WORK/S OR PART/S OF IT, EVEN WITH CREDITS. Thank you!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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